A Little Later
by troubletwinintx
Summary: A quick five minute conversation between two friends.


A Little Later

By Troubletwinintx

All Disclaimers Apply especially the part where I didn't make any money.

Author's Note: This story is pre "Amber". This story is set back when Wilson was still married to his wife. It's a quick 5 minute conversation between House and Wilson. Thanks to my beta reader ndantimo!

"I _**don't**_ camp."

A blurred metal object whizzed past Dr James Wilson's left ear missing it by mere millimeters. Unfazed by his near death experience, he returned the slick ball point pen he held tightly in his hand back into the red ceramic holder located at the far corner of his executive desk. A second later, he expertly lowered his left shoulder just in time to avoid yet another paper clip barreling towards him.

Wilson gave Dr. Gregory House a half-hearted glare but knew it was a useless effort on his part. House was House. What could one do, short of first degree murder, that is? Deciding to use his energy in a more productive matter, Wilson asked his friend a direct but simple question.

"Have you ever been camping?"

"Doesn't matter."

Totally bored with the paper clips, House moved on to bigger game as he spoke to his friend. Aye, the stapler. Opening the back of the mechanical contraction with his fingers, he rapidly shot four (now useless staples) towards his shoes.

A childish giggle filled the room.

Wilson rolled his eyes. After a few more seconds, he decided to try a different approach with his friend. "You know it's not like someone's forcing you to sleep on a hard, dirty, unsanitary ground. Where's your sense of adventure? I'm talking about a six room cabin with a bar for Christ sakes!"

Wilson withdrew a photograph from his pocket and pushed it across the desk towards the person who seemed to be hell bent on destroying his office.

To Wilson's annoyance, House barely glanced at it.

"It's arather_ NICE _cabin if I do say so myself," Wilson added, the last part with the same emphasis as one might hear from a first-time father showing off an image of his newborn son.

House's face brightened as he zoomed on Wilson's enthusiasm. "Well, what are we waiting for? Load up the women and children!" The cane in his hand suddenly waved up in the air above his head. "Just let me go get my rifle and chewing tobaccy. I think I might have left them in my other pants."

"Very funny." Wilson snatched the hole-puncher just in time to keep House from getting his grubby hands on it. "Tell me again – exactly why are we friends?"

"Simple. You're legally bound," House answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am?"

"Yeah, it's written somewhere in our contract. Section 30b or someplace about there. Death due us part. Or was that rubber and glue? I always get those mixed up. Doesn't matter. Aha!"

Using his cane, House maneuvered it just so. The letter opener slid across the desk and into his lap.

Instantly, Wilson knew what was coming. The empty Styrofoam coffee cup on his desk never had a chance.

House cleared his throat diplomatically. "Besides, who else is willing to run interference for you when Cuddy's off on one of her, 'where's your budget report and why haven't you given it to me' rampage?"

Wilson stared at his friend, doubting his own sanity. "I could always quit my job."

"And spend what's left of your golden years locked up at home with your lovely wife?" House made a face similar to someone who had just sucked on a nasty piece of cow leather. He shuddered at the thought. "I think not."

House's vision suddenly zoned in on Wilson's three inch silver paperweight.

Once again, Wilson shook his head in disbelief. It was amazing to him that he'd never had a severe neck problem. Drawing a deep breath of exasperation, Wilson shot out another retort. "I could get a divorce".

By the time he finished his statement, the paperweight had disappeared.

"Jobless, penniless, and homeless – all at the same time. Kind of desperate even for you isn't it? House placed a hand over his heart. "Why, if I had feelings I might think you were trying to tell me something."

"If only!"

"Stop being a drama queen. By the way, that's in the contract too." House retorted sarcastically as he stiffly stood up and slowly moved away from Wilson. A very small thump echoed off the carpet indicating that he had dropped his next obsession onto the floor.

Using his cane as a golf club, he tapped the object softly. The custom made paperweight with the initials "JW" rolled across the room, curving to the left as it went. A second later it hit the corner of the bookshelf, instantly causing it to bounce back towards House and stopping a few inches away from his feet.

"You're hunching your shoulders too much."

"Was not."

"Were to."

"Was not."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Wilson rolled his eyes. When would he ever learn?

The movement was so fast, that if Wilson hadn't been paying close attention, he would have missed the action. He tactfully but firmly demanded that House put it back.

"What?" House replied innocently. For a man who wasn't guilty of anything, he sure did jump on that innocent band wagon awful quick.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't make me come over there."

House's right hand hovered over his pants pocket. After a silent debate with himself, he slid the object back into its rightful place. "You're no fun," he whispered just loud enough for Wilson to hear him.

Before he could reply, a beeping sound echoed in the room and Wilson glanced down at the window display of his hospital pager.

Duty called. Wilson stood up and faced House. "See you at 6 a.m.?"

House stared directly at his friend for a minute. Truth be told, he had looked forward to this weekend all week. No sense in letting the eager beaver know. As he pushed open the door and held it open for his friend, he grunted noncommittally. "7 o'clock and not a minute before."

"Whatever you say, House…whatever you say

Wilson smiled inward as his comrade followed him out the door. He was already thinking ahead of all the things House would do to him when he deliberately showed up tomorrow at 5:00 am.

4


End file.
